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Summary
Chan’s brain skips, scratches, unable to process what he’s seeing.
His eyes flick up to the little bundle of mistletoe taped to the ceiling and then back down to the people underneath it, too caught up in each other to realize he’s standing there.
It feels like someone spiked his pineapple juice, or like the time he got a contact high from Jisung. That must be what’s happening; that’s the only thing that makes sense. There’s no way he’s seeing what he thinks he’s seeing.
He shakes his head to clear it, but the scene in front of him doesn’t change, doesn’t resolve into some other pair of people clinging to each other, their mouths meeting and parting like they’ve done this before, a hundred times—a thousand times.
No matter how much he blinks, nothing changes.
No matter what he does, it’s still Minho and Felix.
Chan catches the Lee brothers kissing under the mistletoe on Christmas Eve.